


Gimlé

by griima (soaringslash)



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: ...i think at least, Character Study, Gen, Grima-centric, Non-graphic depictions of violence, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26364841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soaringslash/pseuds/griima
Summary: Grima's Japanese name may be named after Gimlé (alternately Gimli) from Norse mythology. It was a place where the survivors of Ragnarök were foretold to live. It is described as the most beautiful place on Earth, even more beautiful than the Sun.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Gimlé

>   
>  Once upon a time, a man stood against the Gods, for They had taken from him the one thing he had loved most in all the world. 
> 
> This man was the Alchemist, and he swore he would learn to bestow Life upon the Dead. He would prove the Gods wrong, Their decisions unjust, and would create a Life truly anew - one far more perfect than They.
> 
> … To that end, he stole the sacred Blood from Their veins. 
> 
> His creation would be formed by the hands of Man, but blessed with Divinity. It would be a God of Men.  
> 

⎶⎶⎶

It worked.

Oh, Naga be damned, it _worked!_

Not that he had spent countless hours of effort in preparation of something he thought would fail, but still! He had done it! A smile crept across Forneus’s wizened face.

 _“Awwp?”_ the little dragon said, rising onto its hind legs. Its six eyes narrowed as it returned his smile. _“Fwrr!”_

It had grown from the size of his fingernail to now the size of his fist, its claws clicking on the cobblestone as it ran circles around him like an excited puppy.

He had created life. He had created a god that yipped at his heels, that clung to his every word. 

A god that bowed at his mortal feet.

⎶⎶⎶

>   
>  The Alchemist’s God grew quickly, nursed on his blood. It grew, and grew, and grew. 
> 
> But Man was not meant to build Gods, and the Alchemist’s God turned as warped and twisted as his heart.  
> 

⎶⎶⎶

Forneus had brought back the unwilling dead. Forneus had stolen the blood of the dragons. Forneus had done many things for the sake of his experiments, had willingly subjected himself to the same vile tortures as his subjects in the name of research-

But until now, he had never been afraid.

Six eyes stared into him, uncomprehending, and he shuddered. His fingers sunk into its flesh with a sick squelching noise as he tried to shove it deeper into the jar. 

Six eyes watching as he sealed the lid and turned away.

… The next day, he found the jar shattered and the dragon even bigger.

 _“Fnoom?”_ it asked. Its mouth stretched, and a wave of revulsion washed over him as its rotted lips pulled back over its craggy teeth. _“Fnoor…”_

He ground the heels of his hands against his ears in a vain attempt to block its voice out. The dragon scrabbled around the room, its body flowing like a wave of flesh and bone. 

Once again, it attempted to speak his name: _“Fnoor… nyusss…”_

Forneus sobbed. He felt that if it ever succeeded, he would surely be sent to the depths of madness.

⎶⎶⎶

>   
>  The Alchemist learned to fear his God. For all his Knowledge, he could not contain it.
> 
> As feverishly as he once worked to create it, he now worked to end it.
> 
> The God did not understand. It did not understand the way the Alchemist looked at it; the way its smiles were met with revulsion, its voice with hate.
> 
> It had only wanted to speak to the Alchemist, to make him proud of its progress. To ask what was this Darkness that churned within both their veins.
> 
> The Alchemist’s God wanted only to make him happy.
> 
> The Alchemist only wanted its destruction.  
> 

⎶⎶⎶

Gimle did not understand. Why did the creator hurt them so? What wrong had they done?

Was the creator not kind? Was the creator not good? He had seen fit to grant them life, to share his own bitter blood!

So why…?

_“Fnoor… ‘t… h-hurr.... hurts…”_

The creator said nothing, only drove another shard of pain into their flesh.

_“W… Why…?”_

“Shut up. Just shut up. Just die.”

Gimle made a noise of distress and wriggled against their restraints. They were so scared, so hungry, so in pain…

Their jaws creaked open.

For the first time, Gimle turned against the hands that once made them. Their crooked fangs sunk deep into the creator’s flesh.

 _“Why…!”_ they wept as they tore him apart, swallowed him in screaming pieces. _“What did I do wrong! Why did you-!”_

“Human nature,” Forneus chuckled from his ruined throat. With his last dying breath, his hand came up, as if to caress their face.

Instead, something small and sharp and burning bit into their neck.

Gimle screamed.

⎶⎶⎶

…

>   
>  In the depths of our despair, a God ascended from Hell.  
> 

⎶⎶⎶

Gimle clawed their way from the maze, and rose to a land as clotted with hurt and hate as their own heart.

Here, humans’ colors shone true. They scattered like rats, like vermin. Gimle breathed, and tasted their sorrow. Their desperation. It hung thick in the air, like the smell of blood.

Gimle reared back, their wings spanning cities, and made their decree:

 _“Death! Sacrifice! Hate and rage!”_ they roared, and wild-eyed acolytes roared back. _“Kill, destroy, ravage the land! Weep, you worms, weep! As if you could ever be forgiven!”_

⎶⎶⎶

>   
>  The Fell God granted us Their blessing.
> 
> One day, we all must pay our debt on the bloodstained altar.
> 
> Ylisse, land of plenty; they know not of what they have taken.
> 
> What they have stolen from us.
> 
> We shall take it back.
> 
> For we alone are blessed.  
> 

⎶⎶⎶

“Forgive me, Lord Grima!” the man wailed.

They narrowed their eyes. Leaned in close. The man was an insect, irrelevant, barely the size of the smallest of their teeth.

 _“I do not deal in forgiveness,”_ they said, and their servants tore out his heart.

Beside them, perched on one of their gargantuan claws, a priest and his child sat. The child had markings on their face like Grima’s own eyes. They placed one of their tiny hands on the dragon’s leg.

 _“Child of mine,”_ Grima said, their voice making the ground shake, _“remember this.”_

⎶⎶⎶

>   
>  There shall be a Child, and they shall carry our God’s blood in their veins.
> 
> The Child will rule us, their word our law, for their word is Grima’s.
> 
> They alone will be saved.  
> 

⎶⎶⎶

A year, a hundred, the blink of a Fell Dragon’s eye. A collection of skulls adorned their roost. A history of bones, of lives, of sacrifices.

 _“Child, oh, Child,”_ they rumbled, looking down upon the newest life they had been bestowed.

The child’s father looked up at them. “The mother has fled.”

_“It matters not.”_

“As you say, Lord Grima.”

_“... Leave us now, wormling.”_

The father did not hesitate to obey.

A child and a god stood alone, looking out over the land.

“Grima?” the child asked.

_“You may call me Gimle.”_

An exhalation.

“Gimle, then.”

_“Child… Your kind crawl upon this world like maggots on a corpse. But you are different. You shall see this world live again. And that world will be ours.”_

A smile glimmered in the dark.

The other smiled in kind.

**Author's Note:**

> would you believe me if i told you i've been working on this for over 2 years


End file.
